Delayed
by knobby
Summary: A thwarted mission brings Sydney and Vaughn closer together. Late season 1 or early season 2 pretend Noah never existed!
1. Chapter 1

A/N I was recently delayed at the airport for many hours, and found myself wondering how Sydney's mission would fail if she got stuck in a similar situation. It was going to be a funny story of airport woes, but when I started writing, it turned into this. Please let me know what you think. I've never written an "Alias" story before, though I am a HUGE fan of the show. There may be another chapter about their post visit, respective evenings- if there is any interest for it. Thanks for reading!

**Delayed**

She walked into the warehouse with quiet steps, trying to keep a hold on her racing heart at the sight of him. He was always there first, waiting patiently until she could get away from class, SD-6, or her friends. Lately, she had to admit to herself, he hadn't had to wait too long, as her eagerness to see him made for many abrupt departures from- well, anywhere.

"Hi"

"Hi. How was your trip?"

"Not good, we got delayed at the airport for 5 hours. K- Directorate got to Cairo first."

"What about the files?"

"After we searched the Museum of Antiquities and found nothing, we tried to trace the files to another location. We were unsuccessful."

"How do you know it was K- Directorate?"

"I ran into Anna at our hotel."

"What do you mean-"

"We went to the hotel to sleep, intending to retrace in the morning by 'borrowing' the Museum security tapes. I tried to go to sleep, but there was a lot of noise coming from the room next to mine. I knocked on their door to ask them to keep it down, and Anna answered."

"What did you do?"

"I went for her throat! I would've had her too, but her partner knocked me out from behind. When I came to they were gone, and the room had been cleaned."

"What did Dixon say about this?"

"I didn't tell him. The CIA can go after the files, and this way SD-6 won't be able to get their hands on them first."

"Syd, you should have told Dixon! You were hurt, you should've had him check you out, take you to the doctor, logged your injuries. Now SD-6 will think you're fine- they might send you back into the field before you're healed!"

"I'm okay, Vaughn. It's just a few bruises."

"Still, we need to get you checked."

"I can't go to the doctor now, SD-6 will find out."

"Sydney, I need to put this in your file, you know that! Besides, this could make you vulnerable- and Dixon too." He'd use whatever card he had to play, and he knew she wouldn't put Dixon in harm's way.

"I'm really okay. We probably won't even get another trip for a few more days."

He tried to adopt a more cajoling tone before he said, "Syd…", but when he put his hand on her shoulder, she flinched.

The charade was up. She stared at him for a long moment before she relented. "Okay, Vaughn, but I can't go to my doctor and you know it. You can check me out, to prove to yourself that I will heal, and I'll take some aspirin when I get home. I'll rest, I promise."

What was she doing? She had to chastise herself for even the thought of 'playing doctor' with Vaughn. Though on the surface she appeared calm and conciliatory, underneath she was cursing having suggested such a thing. What would he say? Maybe point out the obvious that he _wasn't_ a trained and licensed medical professional?

Had he heard her right? Was she saying that she would disrobe for his careful and close inspection? _'Get a grip, Mike,'_ he told himself harshly, _'she doesn't think of you that way.'_

"Alright, fine, but if you aren't feeling better within a few days, you're going to a _real_ doctor. We'll stage a car accident or something, so SD-6 won't be suspicious."

"Fine."

"Promise me, Syd. You'll tell me if you aren't getting better in a couple days?"

"Yes, whatever you say- Agent Vaughn."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then burst out laughing; each silently admitting that they were both just acting like petulant children. Coming back to their current situation, Sydney slowly turned around and began unbuttoning her jacket. Behind her, Vaughn reddened and sternly reminded himself that he was a government agent, a handler, and that he was just protecting his asset.

Then he saw what she hid under her basic black, and the creases on his forehead doubled.

She was in dark red satin and lace, at least that's what he saw from the back. A camisole, he thought that's what they call it. Snapping back to himself, he suddenly became aware of violent black and blue marks all over her back and across one shoulder.

"Sydney, I thought you said it wasn't that bad?" he practically yelped.

"I'm okay. Trust me, I've been through worse."

It was the truth, and it pained him. She was always getting knocked down- figuratively and literally- and it hurt to never be able to protect her.

She blushed slightly and admitted, "It does hurt a little to touch, so I couldn't wear a bra…" had she really just said that out loud? To Agent Vaughn? _Get a grip, Sydney!_

"I'll be gentle." His hand shook as he reached out slowly to trace the pattern of her injured shoulder. So softly, so that she wasn't certain he had even touched her. A trail of goosebumps sprang up where she imagined his fingertips had brushed her skin. It distracted her from her surroundings, and she closed her eyes against the contact.

A sigh escaped her, and he froze. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, just… I'm fine." _Better than fine._

He began his exploration again, trying to be even more careful. Her skin was so soft; he forced himself to complete his task before he did something he would surely get his ass kicked for.

"I need to see how far these bruises go, uh, is it okay if I, uh, lift this?" He made a gesture in the general direction of her top, not that she could see it.

She nodded; it was easier than speaking. She didn't know if she could trust her voice right now anyway.

His fingers edged her camisole up slightly, while he leaned in to see how bad the bruises on her back were. The material slipped, and he made direct contact with the silky skin over her ribs. She stopped breathing, but her heart raced at a ridiculous speed. The thought came against her will: _if I turn slightly, right or left, I could feel his fingertips just beneath my breasts._

"Sorry," he righted the elusive material, using it as a barrier between her skin and his own. A small voice inside his head screamed at him in protest. He had to finish now, as quickly as possible, and get some distance between them. Back in inspector mode, he sighed heavily, and his warm breath caressed her back.

"Evil!" Had she said that out loud? Great, how could she play that off?

"What?" He straightened up, convinced that the bruises were ugly, but not fatal.

"Ah, nothing… just- nothing." _Real articulate, Syd_. "So, will I live, Doctor Vaughn?" She attempted a laugh, anything to change the subject and distract her already distracted mind.

"Yes, but I want to check you out again in 2 days. Those are ugly bruises, but I don't think they can do in the 'Great Sydney Bristow'." His tone was stern, but light. He convinced himself that the re-check was for her benefit, not his.

"I'm a pretty fast healer, so I should be much improved in 2 days' time. For now, I'm going to pop a few pills, and soak in a hot bath. Thanks for your help, Vaughn. I know I gave you a hard time, but I feel better now that you looked me over." _Okay, that was a little obvious, Bristow._

Vaughn nodded, and turned to gather his briefcase and suit coat. He'd be heading home to a cold beer and an even colder shower, after this little encounter. At least before he didn't have a clear visual image of her soft, smooth skin to go along with his own imaginings; now he'd have to actively block the memory of touching her so intimately from his mind. He'd never be able to sleep again. As long as he stayed awake, he could control his thoughts.

When he turned back to face her, she was buttoned back up into her 'bank' suit. Somehow she looked sexier to him, as if knowing what she wore under her clothes was a secret they shared by choice. She leaned in and hugged him, but he was afraid of hurting her, so he settled for resting his hands lightly on her hips.

"Thanks Vaughn, for always looking out for me." It was a simple statement that held so much meaning. She left it at that. She needed to get out quickly; his hands were burning into her hips.

"I'll see you in a couple of days," he said, pulling back. "Call me if you need anything."

"Okay, see you." Turning, she walked out of the warehouse, into the slowly fading sunlight.

_It's going to be a long couple of days._


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for sticking with this story- all feedback is greatly appreciated, as I'm still trying to get Syd's and Vaughn's voices right. Have I come any closer?

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She stepped into the hot, sudsy water with a sigh. It had been a long drive from the warehouse- of course it was rush hour by the time they had finished- and she had spent most of it thinking of Vaughn. His hands were surprisingly soft on her skin as he had checked her out. As she lay back in the tub, she felt again his fingertips tracing lines on her body. It was a kind of torture she didn't usually experience in her line of work. Fighting for control over her hormones was distinctly different than fighting for control over a gun. Desire raged through her, and she waited impatiently for the feeling of calm that always came to her in the bath. She would need it if she was ever going to get any sleep tonight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I feel a lot better, and from what I can tell the bruises are starting to go away. See how they're fading? I mean, I really think they've faded." Sydney felt as if she were babbling, but the sound of her own voice helped distract her from the fact that she was standing in front of Vaughn in her bra, while he checked out her injuries. Three days had gone by at an interminable pace while she waited to see him again. SD-6 hadn't come up with any new missions, so her 'recheck' was the first legitimate reason to see Vaughn again. In some twisted way that she didn't want to analyze, she was grateful to Anna. Anna was the reason Vaughn was allowed to look at her. Without her, they would've never been able to justify getting this close.

She could admit to herself that the warehouse scenario had played out (in some variation) more than once after a long night by the fire, a glass of red her only companion. Since the 'humiliating kiss' with Will, she had been as untouched as she was during her awkward teen years. Most of the time she dealt with the lack of contact as she dealt with other cruel realities of her life- pushed it down and away, compartmentalized it until it was a small little nothing in the back of her mind.

But on rare occasions, the fantasies seemed to happen without her even being aware of it, almost without her knowledge. Her focus was split so many different ways that her far too active imagination could carry on by itself, while she went through her day at SD-6, school, and the CIA. She only realized it after she spent time sitting quietly, gazing into the fire. Then, she became aware that she lived an entirely different life in one small, secret part of her head. A life in which she was allowed to _really_ look at Vaughn; where he encouraged her to touch him, kiss him, possess him.

When she walked into the warehouse that afternoon, it was this part of her that was in control. Her quiet chatter was her only disguise, the only thing holding her together.

Aware that Vaughn peered carefully at her back, she continued talking about how much she'd improved. From the outside he gave the impression of someone intent on the task at hand, but inside he was shaking. Sydney had just walked right up to him, taken off her shirt, and turned around.

"You do seem better, though, this bruise-" he touched her lower back, "is still pretty bad."

At the feel of his fingers on her skin, Sydney tensed. She was going to do something stupid is she didn't get out of this warehouse soon. The tiny portion of her brain which had permission to think about Vaughn was getting stronger, a hungry monster feasting on every touch of his fingers.

Vaughn stilled his hand and wondered if she was still sore. Slowly, he began to rub small circles on her back; she told herself that he was only trying to make her feel better, but she didn't believe it. A handler would have sent her to a doctor if she was still in pain; a friend would suggest a stiff drink and a hot bath as a distraction from the recovering bruises; a lover would try to heal her with his touch.

"What are you doing?" She forced herself to sound casual, though her cheeks burned flame red. The cool, stale air of the warehouse floated away, leaving in its wake a charged atmosphere. If she wasn't careful, the electricity coursing through her would take them both out.

"I know you're still sore, I thought this might help."

After several long moments of his hands on her bare flesh, she turned to face him. Syd caught his gaze, hoping to read a hint of desire in his eyes; trying to convince herself that he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. Though she knew he would hover over the line of what was appropriate for a handler/ asset relationship- that in fact they had already crossed it- she wasn't certain he would deny its existence entirely.

They stood there, inches from each other. She had never realized just how green his eyes were until that moment. The seconds slid passed, but neither said a word. They were stuck, not able to look away, but unable to make a move either. She became aware of her hand in his- _did he do that?_ He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

"Thank you."

It was all she could say. She was still staring at him, still only in her bra. Time stopped. The blush on her skin returned. _What am I doing? _She started to fidget, and her bra strap slipped off her shoulder.

Without thinking, Vaughn reached out his free hand to replace the wayward material. He looked openly at her, his mask of concern and professionalism slipping away. The back of his hand skimmed over the skin of her shoulder rhythmically. She saw desire in his eyes, accompanied by hesitation. He was waiting for her, making sure she was aware of what was about to happen- what he was about to do.

"Syd?"

One tiny syllable said it all- are you sure? do you know what this means? do you want this, too? - one question asked; one question answered.

"Vaughn," the strength and desire she infused into his name told them both what they needed to know. He breathed out her name again, nothing but a soft whoosh of happy air.

"Syd…"

"Syd, you okay?"

She opened her eyes, feeling disoriented and chilled. The now cold tub brought her back to reality.

"Syd, you awake in there?" Francie called from the other side of the door. Sydney stifled an angry groan as she sloshed back into a more upright position. Francie- bless her- had the worst timing in the world!

"Hey Francie, uh, I'm fine. I think I- I dozed off for a minute." She was still trembling from her dream; still felt Vaughn's hand in hers. If only she could've slept a few more minutes, where would her mind have gone? Frustrated, she sighed loudly. "I'll be out soon, Fran."

"No rush, I'm going to make dinner, are you hungry?"

_Yeah, but not for food. _"That sounds good, thanks." She said it too brightly, trying to mask her annoyance at her best friend. It wasn't Francie's fault Sydney was so pathetic that she fantasized in the bath instead of making her dreams a reality.

_Someday I'll take down SD-6. Then Vaughn and I will go to that Kings game._

With a final weary sigh, Sydney pulled herself up out of the tub.

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Vaughn slid his car into the reserved space in the parking garage, and collected his jacket and briefcase from the passenger seat on his way out. He was so dazed driving through traffic that he almost couldn't remember how he made it home. The image of Sydney in her lingerie danced in front of his eyes. _Cold shower, cold beer. _It had become his mantra since he left the warehouse.

After dropping everything by the front door and grabbing a beer from the fridge, Vaughn made his way into the bathroom. After taking a long pull of the beer, he turned the shower on. Instead of the cold shower he should've been taking, though, he turned the handle to as hot as it would go. The heat steamed up the closed room, and swirled around him as he undressed and got under the spray. He began to drift as the water pounded over his body, and the tension drained out of his muscles. Images of Sydney played across the inside of his eyelids, an erotic movie he'd seen before.

A noise in the hallway brought Vaughn back to the present. It was soft, _probably Donovan._ He closed his eyes again, but the sudden click of the doorknob made him hold his breath.

Was it SD-6 coming after him, like they'd gone after Danny? He told himself all the time that it was a very real possibility, but he had never actually believed it. Would this be it- would his end be another of Sydney's burdens to bear? Could she carry yet another life on her conscience? With dread squeezing his heart, he moved towards the foot of the tub.

He flung back the curtain, wanting to get it over with, expecting to see the business end of a hand gun pointed at him. Instead, he saw Sydney, the star of his dreams from only seconds ago.

"Sydney? What the hell-"

She didn't say anything, just stared at him, pleading silently; trying to make him understand by the sheer force of her will. _Please, Vaughn- please don't make me leave_, she seemed to be saying.

He could only gape at her. There was simply no way this was actually happening.

He rubbed the water out of his eyes, vaguely aware that it was spraying all over his bathroom floor, and still she didn't disappear. She was there; she was getting undressed. He retreated back into the shower, taking the curtain with him, foolishly thinking she would want her privacy.

He tried hard to get a hold of himself. His mind worked out the ramifications to their work- to their lives- of her standing in his house. SD-6 would kill them, the CIA would reassign him; he didn't even want to think about what Jack would do if he found out. Vaughn closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, but it didn't help the frantic beat of his heart. But he knew- he knew he didn't care if anyone found out, as long as he could have these moments with her.

He felt her hand on his arm, tracing the tattoo he got in honor of his father. He knew it was silly, but he couldn't look at her. He didn't know what he would do when he saw her, naked in front of him.

Her exploration ended, and she dropped her hand. She moved closer to him, trying to get under the water. She brushed up against him, and he grabbed her to him, convincing himself she was real.

"Syd," he whispered in her ear. "Syd."

"Vaughn."

They were pressed tightly together, legs tangled as the water rushed over them. He moved her hair to the side and burrowed into her neck. She pressed into him further. The scent of her perfume revived as the water ran down her body, only for a moment, before it was washed away. He added it to the 'Sydney' catalog in his mind, filled with smiles, touches, the sound of his name leaving her lips- everything about her that he tried to keep with him.

They clung to each other like that for several heady minutes, living in the shared fantasy that they inhabited their own world; that inside Vaughn's house- in his shower- they were untouchable. But the real world couldn't be kept at bay forever; it would impose itself upon them again, ripping them apart for who knew how long. Suddenly time was a precious commodity, and they had wasted so much of it just standing around.

Sydney brought her mouth to Vaughn's neck, sucking lightly at the warm skin of his throat. When a moan escaped from within him, the vibrations tickled her lips and set her body on fire. She ran her hands all over him- not an inch could be spared- trying to own every part of him. She didn't realize she already did.

Vaughn became impatient in his need to know her. His hands roamed over her back and shoulders, feeling every inch of her soft curves. Did she know how beautiful she was?

"Syd… so beautiful…" he couldn't form complete sentences when she was doing those magical things to him, when she was naked in his arms. Their lips bumped into each other en route to various destinations. The flood gates opened, as all the pent up longing crashed around them, sweeping them off into sensation. Mouths and limbs fused into one being, determined never to be apart again.

Vaughn made unintelligible sounds with every touch of her skin on his. Sydney chanted his name over and over, like a prayer being answered.

"Vaughn, Vaughn… Vau…"

He laughed then, curious about something, "How come you never call me by my first name?"

"Hmm?"

"You never-" he was interrupted by her tongue sliding along his lower lip, "call me Michael".

"Hmmm, Michael…"

"Maybe I like Vaughn better," he was interrupted again, "no one says it as sexy as you do."

"…Michael. Hey Mike!"

His eyes snapped open. Someone was banging on his bathroom door.

"Eric? What the- what are you trying to do, scare me to death?" Sydney was gone, and the water had turned frigid. As if he needed it after hearing Eric's voice calling his name in impatience instead of Syd's voice calling him in breathless desire!

"Sorry buddy, I knocked 3 times! Finally I decided to let myself in. Your car was out front, so I knew you were here. I brought pizza and beer- lets watch the Kings game."

"Yeah, okay. I'll be out in a couple of minutes."

He stood under the cold water a few more moments, wishing he'd had more time to explore his 'imaginary' Sydney, but also wishing he'd never seen her in anything other than her SD-6 basic black. His position was hopeless- protect her life, but never be a part of it. Why bother teasing himself with what could never be- or so he told himself.

He dried off quickly, anxious to redirect his thoughts to safer things, like Eric waiting in his living room with beer and pizza, and the promise of a great hockey game on cable. His dreams could wait until there was no more SD-6, until he could work to make them his reality.

Securing the towel around his hips as he walked out of the bathroom to get dressed in his bedroom he yelled down the hall to his friend,

"Hey, Weiss, I want my spare key back!"


End file.
